Belle dusted off her hands like she'd just finished rearranging furniture instead of rearranging my internal organs.
"This should be a good enough warm-up," she said flatly. "Go change. You'll overheat if you keep those on."
I groaned from the floor. "You mean the tracksuit you told me to wear?"
"The less skin covered," she continued as if I hadn't spoken, "the more mana your body can absorb. Changing rooms in the corner."
"Fantastic," I muttered, dragging myself upright. "Beaten half to death, and now I have to strip for better air circulation."
{Romantic,} Bastard said, his tone dripping with mock sincerity. {Truly the training arc of legends.}
I stumbled toward the door she'd pointed at. The room was small, tiled in the same white-and-black pattern as the hall, with a single mirror hanging on the wall.
I leaned against the sink, exhaling. My reflection stared back — and for a second, I barely recognized the guy in the mirror.
Short black hair, still a little messy from the fight, framed a face that looked like it belonged on a wanted poster and a magazine cover at the same time. My jaw was sharp, skin pale, and my eyes, those damn golden eyes, gleamed faintly under the light, like they'd stolen a spark from the sun.
Devastatingly handsome. Uncomfortably so. The kind of face that made you look twice and then question your life choices.
I smirked faintly. "At least one of us looks competent," I muttered to my reflection.
{You're talking to a mirror,} Bastard said dryly. {And it's still winning the argument.}
I rolled my eyes, pulling off the training suit and tossing it aside. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."
But as I changed into the thinner training clothes, I couldn't shake the feeling that the next part of training was going to make the "Magical Punch" look merciful.
And judging by the faint hum of mana pulsing through the air outside, Belle was already waiting.
When I stepped back into the hall, Belle was standing exactly where I'd left her.
Only, she'd changed.
Her dark hair, black with faint streaks of red running through it, was pulled into a loose ponytail that left a few strands framing her face. The combat jacket was gone, replaced by a black sports bra and compression shorts that fit her like a second skin.
For a second, my brain short-circuited.
Okay, no. Nope. Don't.
I wasn't sure if it was the mana pressure or her presence, but my heart was hammering like I'd just sprinted a mile. She looked—
I caught myself, shaking my head hard. "Yeah, no. Definitely illegal to think that. Age isn't just a number. Not this time."
{Illegal but understandable,} Bastard murmured in my head. {Objectively speaking.}
"Shut up," I hissed under my breath.
Belle blinked, tilting her head. "Hm?"
Her voice was casual, light — like she hadn't just turned the training hall into a black-and-red heart attack simulator.
"Nothing," I said quickly. "Just… warming up my vocal cords."
"Oh." She nodded, completely unbothered. "Good idea."
Of course, she didn't get it. Belle Ardent, Reaper of Humanity, twenty-five years old and somehow the most terrifyingly oblivious person alive.
"Anyway," she said after a beat, clapping her hands once like a teacher calling the class to order. "Sit down."
I blinked. "What—"
"Floor," she said, pointing without looking. "Back straight."
There was no menace in her tone, just that breezy, matter-of-fact certainty that somehow carried more authority than a battlefield commander.
"Right. Floor. Sitting. My favorite position," I muttered, lowering myself onto the cool tiles.
Belle stepped behind me, her bare feet silent against the stone. Even without seeing her, I could feel her, the her warmth brushing against my skin, calm and steady, like a heartbeat that wasn't mine.
"Good," she said softly. "Now close your eyes."
I hesitated. "This isn't the part where you hit me again, right?"
"Nope."
"Okay, because you said that exact word last time and I woke up in a crater."
Belle hummed, clearly not denying it. "Trust me this time."
"Those are famously the last words of everyone who dies."
She ignored me completely which honestly, was fair.
I took a slow breath, feeling the air shift around us. The faint hum of mana grew stronger, washing through the room like invisible wind.
"Alright," Belle said after a moment, her tone soft but oddly formal. "Let's start with something basic. You're currently at the Mercury Stage of energy absorption."
"Mercury?" I opened one eye. "Like the metal that poisons people?"
"Like the planet," she corrected absently. "Though the other comparison isn't entirely wrong."
"That's… comforting."
"At the Mercury Stage," she continued, ignoring me again, "living beings can only absorb the weakest form of energy mana. It's the most common, most diluted essence in the world. Easy to handle, but also easy to waste."
"Great," I muttered. "So I'm basically a cheap sponge."
Belle hummed, clearly considering that. "More like a leaky one."
I groaned. "Thanks for the encouragement, coach."
"Next is the Gemini Stage," she went on, brushing a loose strand of red-tinted hair behind her ear. "When your body and soul synchronize enough to process dualflow energy, the current between life and intent. It's stronger than mana, but harder to control. People who reach Gemini start shaping their own reality in small ways, bending air, slowing movement, channeling emotion into force."
"Dualflow energy," I repeated. "Sounds like something you'd order at a cafe."
Belle nodded, completely missing the sarcasm. "It does sound nice, doesn't it?"
Of course, she agreed.
"And the final stage," she said, her voice slightly smug, "is the Apollo Stage, the point where a being's body becomes capable of absorbing Vespera, the densest and purest energy known. It's not just power. It's creation and destruction woven together, raw existence in motion."
Even Bastard's ever-present presence went quiet at that.
I blinked. "Right. And I'm guessing that's a long way off."
Belle smiled that small, almost innocent smile that somehow managed to look smug without trying. "Maybe for you. I'm at the beginning of the Apollo Stage myself."
"Of course you are," I said flatly. "Wouldn't want my teacher to be normal or anything."
Her expression brightened like I'd just complimented her. "Thank you."
I sighed. "That wasn't— you know what, never mind."
Belle raised a finger like she'd just remembered something important.
"Oh—right. You probably don't know what these energies actually do."
"That seems like a pretty big thing to skip," I said.
"Details," she replied cheerfully. "Watch closely."
She stood up and the air in front of her shimmered. Threads of white light twisted together in her palm, weaving themselves into a shape. Within seconds, a blade formed, smooth, translucent, and pure white, its edge humming with faint, steady vibration.
"This," Belle said, holding it up, "is a construct made purely of mana. No element. No affinity. Just raw energy given form."
She gave it a lazy swing.
A line of blinding white light tore across the colosseum floor. The sound came a heartbeat later a sharp, clean crack that echoed through the entire hall.
When the light faded, a gash ran across the stone, fifty meters long, smooth as glass, deep enough that I could see the earth beneath the arena.
I stared. "You call that basic?"
Belle tilted her head, studying her work like a painter checking a brushstroke. "Hm. A little crooked."
Then she whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear—"Die."
The cut sealed shut. No noise, no flash. The ground simply forgot it had ever been broken.
I blinked hard. "What—did you just—"
She smiled faintly, dismissing the mana blade. "Now for comparison."
The air shifted again, but this time it wasn't light that gathered; it was darkness. The edges of the room dimmed as black energy spiraled into her hand, dense enough to distort the air around it.
When the new blade took shape, it looked wrong. Like the space it occupied was borrowed, like it didn't belong here.
"This is Vespera," she said quietly. "The energy of creation's shadow."
Before I could respond, she swung.
There was no sound just pressure. The world seemed to skip a frame. Then half the colosseum erupted. Stone and dust exploded outward, the shockwave slamming into me hard enough to steal my breath.
By the time I blinked again, the top half of the arena was gone, sliced open, reduced to floating shards suspended in the air. A mile-long trail of destruction.
And then, softly, she said again:"Die."
The destruction reversed. The shards fell upward, the air folded back on itself, and the arena was whole once more.
I stared at the unmarred floor, my heart pounding.
For a terrifying moment, I thought she'd killed the concept of time itself just to undo her own attack.
"See?" she said brightly, brushing dust off her hands like she'd just cleaned a table. "That's the difference between mana and Vespera."
I swallowed hard. "You know, most teachers would just use an energy screen."
Belle blinked. "Oh. I don't have one."
"Yeah," I muttered. "That's definitely the issue here."